BURKE--[With jubilant happiness--as they proceed toward the cabin.]

Glory be to G.o.d, is it holding my arm about your neck you are! Anna!

Anna! Sure it's a sweet name is suited to you.

ANNA--[Guiding him carefully.] Sssh! Sssh!

BURKE--Whisht, is it? Indade, and I'll not. I'll be roaring it out like a fog horn over the sea! You're the girl of the world and we'll be marrying soon and I don't care who knows it!

ANNA--[As she guides him through the cabin door.] Ssshh! Never mind that talk. You go to sleep. [They go out of sight in the cabin. CHRIS, who has been listening to BURKE's last words with open-mouthed amazement stands looking after them helplessly.]

CHRIS--[Turns suddenly and shakes his fist out at the sea--with bitter hatred.] Dat's your dirty trick, d.a.m.n ole davil, you! [Then in a frenzy of rage.] But, py G.o.d, you don't do dat! Not while Ay'm living! No, py G.o.d, you don't!

[The Curtain Falls]

ACT III

SCENE--The interior of the cabin on the barge, "Simeon Winthrop" (at dock in Boston)--a narrow, low-ceilinged compartment the walls of which are painted a light brown with white tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs. In the rear on the left, a door leading to the sleeping quarters. In the far left corner, a large locker-closet, painted white, on the door of which a mirror hangs on a nail. In the rear wall, two small square windows and a door opening out on the deck toward the stern. In the right wall, two more windows looking out on the port deck. White curtains, clean and stiff, are at the windows. A table with two cane-bottomed chairs stands in the center of the cabin. A dilapidated, wicker rocker, painted brown, is also by the table.

It is afternoon of a sunny day about a week later. From the harbor and docks outside, m.u.f.fled by the closed door and windows, comes the sound of steamers' whistles and the puffing snort of the donkey engines of some ship unloading nearby.

As the curtain rises, CHRIS and ANNA are discovered. ANNA is seated in the rocking-chair by the table, with a newspaper in her hands. She is not reading but staring straight in front of her. She looks unhappy, troubled, frowningly concentrated on her thoughts. CHRIS wanders about the room, casting quick, uneasy side glances at her face, then stopping to peer absentmindedly out of the window. His att.i.tude betrays an overwhelming, gloomy anxiety which has him on tenter hooks. He pretends to be engaged in setting things ship-shape, but this occupation is confined to picking up some object, staring at it stupidly for a second, then aimlessly putting it down again. He clears his throat and starts to sing to himself in a low, doleful voice: "My Yosephine, come aboard de ship. Long time Ay wait for you."

ANNA--[Turning on him, sarcastically.] I'm glad someone's feeling good.

[Wearily.] Gee, I sure wish we was out of this dump and back in New York.

CHRIS--[With a sigh.] Ay'm glad vhen ve sail again, too. [Then, as she makes no comment, he goes on with a ponderous attempt at sarcasm.] Ay don't see vhy you don't like Boston, dough. You have good time here, Ay tank. You go ash.o.r.e all time, every day and night veek ve've been here.

You go to movies, see show, gat all kinds fun--[His eyes hard with hatred.] All with that d.a.m.n Irish fallar!

ANNA--[With weary scorn.] Oh, for heaven's sake, are you off on that again? Where's the harm in his taking me around? D'you want me to sit all day and night in this cabin with you--and knit? Ain't I got a right to have as good a time as I can?

CHRIS--It ain't right kind of fun--not with that fallar, no.

ANNA--I been back on board every night by eleven, ain't I? [Then struck by some thought--looks at him with keen suspicion--with rising anger.]

Say, look here, what d'you mean by what you yust said?

CHRIS--[Hastily.] Nutting but what Ay say, Anna.

ANNA--You said "ain't right" and you said it funny. Say, listen here, you ain't trying to insinuate that there's something wrong between us, are you?

CHRIS--[Horrified.] No, Anna! No, Ay svear to G.o.d, Ay never tank dat!

ANNA--[Mollified by his very evident sincerity--sitting down again.]

Well, don't you never think it neither if you want me ever to speak to you again. [Angrily again.] If I ever dreamt you thought that, I'd get the h.e.l.l out of this barge so quick you couldn't see me for dust.

CHRIS--[Soothingly.] Ay wouldn't never dream--[Then, after a second's pause, reprovingly.] You vas gatting learn to svear. Dat ain't nice for young gel, you tank?

ANNA--[With a faint trace of a smile.] Excuse me. You ain't used to such language, I know. [Mockingly.] That's what your taking me to sea has done for me.

CHRIS--[Indignantly.] No, it ain't me. It's dat d.a.m.n sailor fallar learn you bad tangs.

ANNA--He ain't a sailor. He's a stoker.

CHRIS--[Forcibly.] Dat vas million times vorse, Ay tal you! Dem fallars dat vork below shoveling coal vas de dirtiest, rough gang of no-good fallars in vorld!

ANNA--I'd hate to hear you say that to Mat.

CHRIS--Oh, Ay tal him same tang. You don't gat it in head Ay'm scared of him yust 'cause he vas stronger'n Ay vas. [Menacingly.] You don't gat for fight with fists with dem fallars. Dere's oder vay for fix him.

ANNA--[Glancing at him with sudden alarm.] What d'you mean?

CHRIS--[Sullenly.] Nutting.

ANNA--You'd better not. I wouldn't start no trouble with him if I was you. He might forget some time that you was old and my father--and then you'd be out of luck.

CHRIS--[With smouldering hatred.] Vell, yust let him! Ay'm ole bird maybe, but Ay bet Ay show him trick or two.

ANNA--[Suddenly changing her tone--persuasively.] Aw come on, be good.

What's eating you, anyway? Don't you want no one to be nice to me except yourself?

CHRIS--[Placated--coming to her--eagerly.] Yes, Ay do, Anna--only not fallar on sea. But Ay like for you marry steady fallar got good yob on land. You have little home in country all your own--

ANNA--[Rising to her feet--brusquely.] Oh, cut it out! [Scornfully.]

Little home in the country! I wish you could have seen the little home in the country where you had me in jail till I was sixteen! [With rising irritation.] Some day you're going to get me so mad with that talk, I'm going to turn loose on you and tell you--a lot of things that'll open your eyes.

CHRIS--[Alarmed.] Ay don't vant--

ANNA--I know you don't; but you keep on talking yust the same.

CHRIS--Ay don't talk no more den, Anna.

ANNA--Then promise me you'll cut out saying nasty things about Mat Burke every chance you get.

CHRIS--[Evasive and suspicious.] Vhy? You like dat fallar--very much, Anna?

ANNA--Yes, I certainly do! He's a regular man, no matter what faults he's got. One of his fingers is worth all the hundreds of men I met out there--inland.

CHRIS--[His face darkening.] Maybe you tank you love him, den?

ANNA--[Defiantly.] What of it if I do?

CHRIS--[Scowling and forcing out the words.] Maybe--you tank you--marry him?

ANNA--[Shaking her head.] No! [CHRIS' face lights up with relief. ANNA continues slowly, a trace of sadness in her voice.] If I'd met him four years ago--or even two years ago--I'd have jumped at the chance, I tell you that straight. And I would now--only he's such a simple guy--a big kid--and I ain't got the heart to fool him. [She breaks off suddenly.]

But don't never say again he ain't good enough for me. It's me ain't good enough for him.